Blurred Edges
by Stargazing BasketCase
Summary: It was an accident – a chance encounter within their minds as they lay in mirrored states. But it will have far reaching consequences as two realities come crashing into one another. TenRose.
1. Prologue: Dreaming

Title: **Blurred Edges**

Rating: T

Summary: It was an accident – a chance encounter within their minds as they lay in mirrored states. But it will have far reaching consequences, as two realities come crashing into one another. Ten/Rose.

This fic it set in the same semi-universe as my other fics **Breath of Life**, **Golden Death **and (maybe) **Memories**. There will probably be references to events in those in later chapters so yeh (not to be pimping out my fics or anything... :D).

R&R is blessed to the Muse, and enjoy!

Blurred Edges

_Prologue - Dreaming_

Her voice whispered in his mind, as it always did when he slept.

Sometimes it was soft and loving, sometimes pained and full of fear. There were no sentences, no speeches, no phrases, no idioms, no metaphors. Just his name, whispered by her lips, in either agony or ecstasy. So his sleeps were few and far between – he couldn't stand hearing her in his mind, after all this time. He couldn't stand the reaffirmation of the knowledge that he had lost her forever.

He had only cried for her once, and that had only been a single tear. But the pain was always there, heavy in his soul and his hearts.

He had loved her, and he had lost her.

A bitter smile touched his lips as he slept. _Whoever said 'it is better to have loved and lost'… _That was one Earth adage that haunted him during the long sleeps when she whispered words of love and adoration to him, because he could bear testament to how unfailingly _wrong _those words were.

_Oh God, I miss her. _

Tonight his dreams were strangely lucid. Very often they were meaningless swirls of colour and emotion, interspersed with nightmarish memories from his nine-hundred years, all layered over with her sweet voice. But tonight…

Tonight he could see her.

Her lips curved into a smile as he watched her. _"I've missed you, my Doctor." _The movements of her full lips were out of sync with her words, as if he was viewing her through water.

"I've missed you too."

She nodded knowingly, a bittersweet smile dancing around her lips. _"I know." _

He couldn't take his eyes away from her. "How are you?"

She shrugged. _"Okay, I guess. Torchwood's okay. Busy." _

He smiled. "Good to know." His smile faltered, just a little. "Are you happy?"

Her smile slipped, too. _"Not really. Content, I guess. My life's good, compared to lots of people." _Fingers came up and brushed blonde locks out of her eyes. _"But I'm not happy." _A bitter smile. _"You?" _

"Same."

"_Got a new assistant yet?" _she asked, her tone light but her eyes brimming with pain.

"Yeah," he answered, throat thick with guilt. "Her name's Martha. You'd like her."

Her smile slipped, and even in the dream he felt her pain. _"Are you and her…" _

"No!" he hastened. "I'd never."

"_Doctor…" _She looked melancholy. _"You don't have to lie to me. I won't mind." _

"Oh…" He stepped forward, taking her hands in his. "I promise. She could _never _replace you."

She smiled, just slightly. _"I want to believe you." _

"Then do."

Anger flashed in her eyes and she dragged her hands away from him. _"How can I?! You left me! Abandoned me!" _

"But—"

"_You left me for Sarah-Jane! For Madame Pompadour! You left me in another _universe_!" _

"Hey!" He caught her hands again, pulling her into his crushing embrace. "Damnit, Rose, I love you."

And he kissed her.

He knew that this was just a dream, and that this was his own consciousness giving him what he wanted, but he still felt a rush and a shudder as she kissed back, her dream-hands sliding up his neck and into his hair.

He broke the kiss and hugged her close to him. "And I know this is just in my mind," he whispered fiercely, "but I don't care. Damnit, Rose, _I need you." _

"_Doctor…" _

But then she wavered, and her body flickered in and out of existence. "Rose?" he asked, panicked.

"_Doctor! What's happening to you?!" _

"What's happening to _you_?!" he retorted, hearts beating a furiously pained tattoo in his chest.

And she vanished, surprise and fear and love written across her exquisite features.

"_Rose!_" he screamed into the silence of his mind.

---------

And awoke.

His hearts were still pounding, and the sheet stuck to his naked body. He screwed his eyes shut; fighting to erase the image of her scared and pained face that was imprinted on his mind. He let out a fierce, tight sigh. "_Rose._"

Someone stirred beside him, dragging the sheet off his waist and around themselves. " 'S too _early,_" a sleepy voice mumbled. "Turn off th' lights…"

The Doctor froze. Memories of what had happened began to trickle back, and he paled. _Oh God… No… _

"Martha?" he asked softly, although he knew the answer already. "What are you doing in my bed?"

---------


	2. Chapter 1: Awakening

Argh! Did it again! Forgot the bloody disclaimer!

Disclaimer: Don't! Bloody! Own!

-is irritated- Meh.

I know not a lot happens in this chapter, but it's one of those annoying chapters that you _need _to get the story moving, but that just won't let you put much action into it… Is it okay?

Anyway. R&R is blessed to the Muse, and enjoy!

Blurred Edges

_1 - Awakening _

Rose Tyler awoke with a gasp, her hand to her forehead and her arm gathering the sheets around her naked body. "Oh…" she groaned, as the impact of a throbbing headache made itself known in her skull. Memories of vodka shots and an impromptu drinking contest with Mickey and Jake in a seedy Cardiff bar last night guiltily slunk back to her overwhelmed brain, and she moaned. "_That_ was a bad idea…"

She closed her eyes against the bright light of morning and stretched, preparing herself for a day of work-plus-hangover.

Her hand hit a warm, sleeping body.

_Oh, sh… _

_---------_

The Doctor didn't want to look down. He closed his eyes, wishing desperately that he was asleep, and still dreaming. _Isn't happening. Isn't happening. _

Someone stirred beside him, and then went still. "Oh fu… Doctor?" Martha's sleepily horrified voice jerked him out of _that _hope.

He kept his eyes closed. _This is _not _happening. This is _not _happening. _

"Doctor, what happened?"

_Oh, bloody hell, this _is_ happening. _

He opened his eyes and stared straight at the wall ahead of him. "Alcohol happened." He ran his tongue around his lips, tasting the faint traces of intoxicant that still clung there. "Hyper-Vodkas, by the taste and the… headache."

"Doctor, I…"

"Yeah. I know."

He heard her pause, heard her swallow. "What're we gonna do?"

"First of all? Get some aspirin. In a couple of seconds you are going to have a _killer_ of a headache."

His point was proved as she moaned violently.

_---------_

"Did I just do what I thought I did?" Jake's voice was husky in the morning light, and his breath smelt of booze – just like Rose's did, she reckoned.

"If what you thought you did involved shagging your partner-in-crime's ex-girlfriend…" Rose let the sentence dangle, earning another pained moan from Jake – and not from headache-related offences. "Then yep. I'd say you definitely did."

"Rose, I'm sorry."

She brushed his words aside. "Nah. Doesn't matter." Rose swung her legs over the side of the bed, pulling the sheet with her. Jake, left naked on the mattress, yelped and swung his legs up to cover himself. Rose smiled slightly and pulled on her knickers. "We're both responsible adults. So what if we had a midnight shag?"

The bedsprings creaked as he jumped off and began to copy her, pulling on clothing left, right and centre. "Very true," he commented. "It was the alcohol talking, not us."

"Got it in one." Rose turned around and waved her hands at him in a shooing motion. "Now go. I need to get dressed."

He gave her a funny look. "So? I've seen it all before."

She mock-glared at him. "Just because we shagged last night doesn't mean that you can watch me get dressed. Now. Shoo." She smiled nicely. "Mickey's only a corridor away."

Grumbling, he left the flat, jeans' fly still undone and shirt and shoes clutched to his chest. The door clicked shut behind him.

The smile fell from Rose's face.

She let the bed sheet fall to the floor in a crumpled heap and sat down heavily on the mattress, only half dressed. Her expression was utterly stricken. "Oh Doctor," she whispered, her eyes abruptly filling with tears. "I'm _sorry…_"

_---------_

_How could you be so _stupid?!

Pace, pace, pace. Kick.

_Damnit, you idiot! You just wrecked _everything!

Pace, pace, pace. Kick, _smash. _

_You're supposed to be the responsible one! She's the one who doesn't know any better! _

Pace, pace, pace. Kick, smash, _thud. _

_And what about Rose? _

The Doctor stopped dead in the centre of the room, his own mental voice ringing in his ears. _How could I do that? _he asked himself, feeling pain and grief rising to his throat once more. _How could I? _

Martha had left, still mumbling apologies, clutching a glass of water and a packet of aspirin. She'd fled to the other side of the TARDIS to hide from him. And he'd been pacing, and fuming, and hurting ever since.

He spun around and slammed his fist into the wall. He heard the TARDIS's silent twitch of pain in his mind, but he ignored it. He was remembering his dream – the one that had felt so real, so poignant, so _painful. _

_You told her you loved her. _

He felt the tears welling up in his eyes. He hadn't cried for over a year now – not since he'd said that final, heartbreaking goodbye to the girl who had stolen his hearts. He would _not _cry now.

_You told her you loved her. _

_You liar. _

_---------_

Mickey glanced up as he heard the door open and close softly. "Hello?" he called.

"Hi, mate." Jake hove into view, stepping into the kitchen.

Mickey frowned at his friend's state of undress. "What'd _you _get up to last night?" he quipped, smiling.

Jake grumbled wordlessly, dumped his bundle of clothes on the floor and began to search through the cabinets.

"Aspirin?"

"Yeah."

Mickey chucked the packet at him – a packet with two empty spaces.

Jake looked up at him. "You too, hey?"

Mickey nodded. "Yep. Don't think I got up to what you did, though." He laughed. "Who was she then?"

Jake smirked as he filled a glass of water from the tap. "Your ex-girlfriend, mate."

Mickey's grin froze. "You slept with Rose?"

Jake failed to notice the sudden tension in Mickey's voice. "Yep. We both got drunk, and I ended up back at her flat!" He shook his head and switched the water off. "It's been a while since I've done _that…_"

"Oh Rose…" Mickey was abruptly on his feet – he clipped Jake around the ears with more force than usual for a quick play-fight. "You _idiot_," he snarled, his voice full of worry and fear. "Stay here. Don't go anywhere."

"Mickey?" Jake asked, a hand to the back of his head in shock and pain.

Mickey paused at the doorway out of the flat. "You've done enough damage," he replied lowly. And then he was out the door.

_---------_

Martha couldn't stop shaking.

She was knelt on the floor of her room in the TARDIS, going through her make-up kit, searching for mascara, but her hands were all over the place. After she'd fled the Doctor she'd dragged on whatever clothes she could find, needing to feel decent, and had then proceeded to layer on make-up, trying to create a shield that she could use to hide behind.

But then her hands had started shaking.

She dropped the bag and sat back on her heels. She ran trembling fingers through her hair and hugged herself.

_Why did you let yourself do that? _

She'd been attracted to the Doctor when she'd first come onboard – who wouldn't be? He was quirky, funny, attractive and had a time machine: self-explanatory, really. And, to add insult to injury, within twenty-four hours of knowing her he'd snogged her.

And _boy _was he a good kisser.

But within a month of beginning to travel with him she'd realised that there was no way in hell that he would reciprocate her interest – he'd just had his heart broken.

Well. Hearts, technically.

While the Time Lord himself had remained oblivious to Martha's interest, the TARDIS hadn't, and the ancient time ship had spoken to her, and had warned her off. No names had been mentioned in that warning, but Martha knew who the TARDIS was speaking about.

_"Her name was Rose." _

And so, for a few days, Martha had been in unspoken competition with this name, this ideal. This 'Rose'. But that had passed, as all youthful obsessions do, and she had settled into her own unique rapport with the Doctor – but they were just friends.

And now…

_Damnit. How could you do that to him? _

_---------_

"Rose?" Mickey stepped through the door of Rose's flat. "Where are you?"

"Here."

He winced at the sound of her voice; husky and low and grief-ridden. He followed the sound and found her – curled up in the corner of the room, clad in nothing but her underwear. He crouched down in front of her. "How are you?"

She mutely shook her head, her face half-obscured by shaggy hair.

"Jake told me what happened."

A sob escaped her, just one. "How could I?" she whispered.

"Rose, he wouldn't blame you. You know that."

Rose Tyler looked up at him, pain in her eyes. "I dreamt of him," she whispered, trying to hold back sobs. "He told me he loved me. And then…" Her voice cracked and she swallowed. "And then I do _this._"

Wordlessly Mickey pushed himself into the corner beside her and pulled her into his arms. She was shivering.

"Mickey, I miss him," she whispered into his jacket, her hand curling in the front of his T-shirt. "So much."

"I know," he replied. "I know you do."

Rose continued to shake against him, crying once more. He'd held her before as she'd wept for the love she'd lost, but none of those times had he felt this overwhelming sense of something coming. Of something momentous that was about to happen.

_I dreamt of him. _

The last time Rose had dreamt of the Doctor she'd had her heart broken.

Mickey hoped that whatever was coming—and he knew that it was coming soon—would finally mend her.

---------


	3. Chapter 2: Arriving

Disclaimer etc.: see Prologue/1st chapter.

Thanks to everyone who has reviewed - you all rock! R&R feeds the Muse, and enjoy!

Blurred Edges

_2 - Arriving_

Martha's footsteps were loud on the metal grating underfoot, and he knew that she was coming long before she was in sight. His hands curled around the handrails that circled the TARDIS console, and his knuckles paled as his eyes closed.

_Keep it in. Keep it together. It didn't happen. Just… act like it didn't happen. _

"Doctor?" He opened his eyes as Martha stepped into view. She was half-obscured by the pulsing centre column, but he could still see the fear in her eyes.

The last of the Time Lords gave her a cheery grin, as happy and bubbly as ever. "Good morning, Martha! Where to today then, hmm?"

Her face, held in a rigor of pain and apprehension, relaxed into a smile. "Don't ask me, Doctor. You're the one with the time-and-space-ship."

"Hmm, there is that…" he mused, flicking a switch on the console back and forth absently as he forced his unruly emotions down. _Don't think of her. Don't think of her. _

She pressed the fingertips of one hand to her temple. "Just nowhere too loud, okay? I've got a _hell_ of a headache."

He smirked and deliberately ignored the knowledge of where that headache came from. "Rightio, then." And the consequences of the origin of that headache. "What do you think to—"

The TARDIS jolted violently, flinging her to the floor and him face-first into the console. He yelped in pain as his nose smashed into one of the view-screens. Said screen flickered and went out.

"Doctor?!" Martha called, panic in her voice as she scrambled to her feet and latched onto the railing. The TARDIS continued to shake. "What's _happening_?!"

Blood flowed from the Doctor's nose. "Don't mind me, I'm fine!" he yelled in response over the clamour of alarms, sirens and something that sounded like a cockerel in full flow. He lurched to his feet and staggered around the console, as if he was aboard a sailing ship in the throes of a storm. "Something's grabbed hold of the TARDIS!" he exclaimed in disbelief.

Martha stumbled to his side. "Something bad?"

He slammed his palm onto a blue button and the noise in the room abruptly dropped. "That's better," he sighed, and refocused on the console and her question. "I can't tell," he replied slowly, forehead furrowed. "Which is _never _a good sign."

---------

Rose shrugged her jacket on and slung a bag, stuffed to overflowing with reports and documents and a selection of biros, onto her shoulder. Mickey watched her sceptically from the doorway as she busied herself with preparation. "Are you sure you're okay?" he asked.

"I'm fine," she snapped quickly.

"Will you be oka—"

"Mickey." She gave him a quelling look, and he subsided. "I am _fine._ It was just a dream, and just a midnight shag. Nothing to get worried about."

He cocked an eyebrow at her. "Oh yeah? Twenty minutes ago you were sobbing your heart out."

"That was twenty minutes ago. This is now."

He folded his arms. "Rose…"

"Mickey." She said his name as if it was a conclusion to their argument, and in a way it was. When Rose Tyler, defender of the Earth, made her mind up there was no one who could change it. Not even _him. _She flicked through her bag and dragged out a rumpled beige folder. "Give this to Jake, will you? Came through for him last night from Torchwood One." She gave him an amused look. "What's he been getting up to _now, _I wonder."

Mickey watched her for another long moment, and then sighed and accepted the folder with a shrug. "Who knows?" He smiled, just a little. "Okay. See you at work?"

"Yeah." She flashed him a small smile and pushed past him, out the door.

---------

As the door to Torchwood Three slid open with the familiar squeal, Rose heard the startled yell of voices and ducked sharply. Right on cue, a basketball sailed out the door through the space her head had occupied a second earlier. She rolled her eyes, ducked back out to pick up the ball, and then sauntered through to the workspace – she was used to her teammates' antics by now.

She spun the ball on a finger – a skill she'd picked up some time ago. Her throat caught, just for a second, when she remembered that it was yet another remnant of her travels with _him_.

Rose stopped spinning the ball, and tucked it under her arm.

She forced a smile onto her face. "Okay then. Which of you two wants to kill me _now?_"

Wordlessly, Toshiko Sato pointed at Owen Harper. Owen himself merely scratched at the scar running vertically down his left cheek and smiled ingratiatingly. "Accident?" he offered.

Rose shook her head, the smile on her lips becoming genuine. She rummaged in her bag, digging out a penknife. She flicked the blade out and gently, _threateningly_, touched the point to the ball.

Owen lurched forward. "Hey!"

She waved the knife at him. "No more homicide attempts?"

He pulled a face. She made as if to stab the ball.

"Okay! Okay!" He sighed. "I won't throw it at you again."

"Promise?"

Owen wriggled in his chair. Rose raised an eyebrow at him, and he caved. "Fine. I _promise._"

"Good." She tucked the penknife back in her bag and tossed the basketball unexpectedly at Owen – it whacked him in the forehead, bounced off his computer keyboard, typing a paragraph of gibberish in the middle of a four page long report and then cancelling the whole document, and then rolled innocently away.

Rose ignored Owen's pole-axed expression and Toshiko's muffled snorts of laughter, and walked over to her office, dumping the bag of paper by the side of her desk and sitting down with a sigh. She regarded the stack of _new _paper in front of her with loathing, and sighed again. "What _idiot_ invented paperwork?" she asked herself under her breath.

"Rose?" It was Toshiko. "Got a video call for you from Torchwood Five."

Rose grinned. "Call operator now, Tosh? Going up in the world, I see."

"Ha ha," Toshiko dead-panned. "You want the call, or not?"

"Yeah sure." Rose switched on her computer screen and leaned back. "Send it over."

Toshiko nodded, and the Oriental woman's hands blurred over her keyboard. On Rose's screen a communications program popped up, displaying the Torchwood logo and a waiting icon. "Thanks," Rose called.

"No problem." Toshiko returned to work – reports, research and the merciless teasing of Owen Harper.

Rose turned her attention to the screen. An image flickered into life on the screen – a dark-haired man in a well-tailored suit. His face lapsed into a grin at the sight of Rose. "_Hello, Miss Tyler,_" he greeted in a soft Welsh accent.

"Mr Jones," Rose replied, with equal aplomb. She allowed a tiny smile to lap at her lips. "How are you, Ianto?"

He shrugged. "_Well enough." _He sighed and rolled his eyes._ "Why did you never _tell _me setting up a branch of Torchwood involved this much _work"

Rose laughed. "Wait 'til you're up and running. Then the paperwork _really _kicks in." She hefted her own stack (two inches thick) and waved it in front of the screen. "Look at this lot!"

Ianto winced in sympathy. "_I pity you, Rose._"

"Thanks," she answered simply. "I need it." She smiled and settled the papers down again. "So, down to business." She leaned forward. "What can I do for you?"

Ianto bit his lip. "_We've had some reports of…funny things going on up here,_" he replied. "_Only started at about midnight, actually. I was wondering if you've heard of anything weird happening down there?_" He smirked self-deprecatingly. "_Or if this is just me being paranoid._"

Rose shook her head thoughtfully. "Nothing too out of the ordinary, I think," she mused. "Have you talked to anyone else? Adam usually knows more about funny stuff going on than me."

Adam Mitchell—the very same Adam Mitchell the Doctor's ninth incarnation and Rose had picked up from Van Statten—was head of Torchwood One, or at least the remnants of Torchwood One in London. _That _had been a shock; walking into the first meeting of the heads of Torchwood she'd attended and seeing Adam there, sans hole-in-the-head. In this universe he'd got two job offers at once – from Van Statten and Torchwood. He'd picked Torchwood, and the rest was history.

Ianto shook his head. "_I'll call him next. _You_ were top of my list. Old friends and all that._"

Rose grinned. "You old charmer. Why did I ever let them transfer you?"

He shrugged. "_Don't ask me._"

She smiled, and then readdressed her mind to Ianto's question. "Although…" Rose tapped a finger thoughtfully against her lips. "Now you come to mention weirdness, there is something…" She paused, lost in thought.

"_Rose?_" Ianto prompted, regarding her intently.

She shook her head slowly. "Nothing solid; it's more like a feeling. Something insubstantial, but definitely there." She caught her lip between her teeth. "It feels like—"

"—_like something's coming_," Ianto said over her.

Rose looked up at him. "You feel it too."

Ianto nodded wordlessly, worry written across his features in lines of crystalline ice.

Rose sighed and rubbed at her temples. "Keep me posted?" she asked.

He nodded again. "_I will, boss._"

She looked at him pointedly. "I'm not your boss anymore," she reminded.

He smiled unrepentantly. "_Old habit._"

She laughed. "It was nice to hear from you again."

"_You too._"

"Talk to you soon?"

"_Yes. Oh, and say 'hi' to the others._"

"I will. Bye, Ianto."

He smiled once more and cut the connection.

Rose leaned back in her chair, fingers laced over her stomach and forehead creased thoughtfully. She studiously ignored her pounding headache, which had just been exacerbated by her brief conversation with Ianto, and focused on the task at hand. "Owen?" she called.

The doctor, white lab coat draped over his shoulders, leaned back and looked over at her. "Yeah?"

"Have we had any reports of any unusual happens in the last few hours?" she asked. Then she reconsidered what she'd just said. "Well. More unusual than normal."

Owen shook his head slowly, thinking. "Not really," he answered. "No reports of anything. Why?"

She rocked in her chair, propping her feet up on the desk in front of her. She shook her head slightly, dismissing it. "No reason," she answered. She reluctantly returned her gaze to the stack of work she'd been given. "Guess I'd better get started on this," she murmured with an ironic raise of the eyebrow. "Paperwork waits for no man… Or woman."

Digging a biro out of her bag, she skimmed the text of the first sheet, grimacing as she did so. She pushed all thoughts of trouble out of her mind, and concentrated on the moment.

But she couldn't quite stop her mind reflecting on how much simpler things were when _he _was around to sort them out. And she couldn't quite stop her hand from plucking at the chain she wore around her neck, under her shirt, and couldn't stop her fingers taking hold of the perpetually ice-cold key that hung on that chain.

"_Damnit, Rose, I need you." _

She shivered.

_Damnit Doctor, I need you too. _

---------

The TARDIS stopped rattling, and silence filled the ancient ship.

Slowly, so slowly, the Doctor released his death-grip on the console and stood up straight. "I think," he said into the silence, "we've landed."

Martha glanced up at him, still gripping the railings. "You think?" she mumbled half-sarcastically.

"Yup." He pressed the heel of his hand to his nose. "Oh dear," he mumbled in a surprised tone. "My nose is bleeding." He deftly whipped a handkerchief out of a pocket of his long coat and pressed it to his nose. "That's better."

She smiled.

"What?"

"Nothing."

He frowned. "What?!"

"Nothing!" Martha glanced over at the doors, frowning. "But where are we?"

"Not a clue," he replied brightly. "Most of the TARDIS's systems are out of whack now. She needs to recover for a bit." He pouted. "Poor girl…"

"You don't _know?_"

"Nope. But there's one way to find out…" He swung around and headed for the exit. He pulled the door open and stepped out, holding it open for Martha behind him. "Here we go!" he said cheerfully, bloody handkerchief still pressed to his nose.

And he turned around and found himself face-to-face with the barrel of a rather large gun.

"Ah," the Doctor said.

---------


	4. Chapter 3: Meeting

Disclaimer etc.: see Prologue/1st chapter.

References in this to **Memories**, by yours truly, and will probably be a little confusing if you haven't read that… Sorry.

And I am so sorry for the delay in updates - the computer has been being bad (I can't review anything) and, to add insult to injury, the Muse buggered off the the Bahamas. Meh.

Anyway. Enjoy!

Blurred Edges

_3 - Meeting_

"Martha Jones! I demand you take that back immediately!"

Martha giggled. "Why? It's so true."

"It is not!" The Doctor huffed and crossed his arms. "I do _not _have a 'thing' for _anything_! Especially not…" He sniffed and looked appalled. "That."

She gave him a look. "Oh yeah? I've been travelling with you for four months now, right? And this is the _twenty-sixth_ cell we've been locked up in."

He scratched behind his ear. "Well, yeah—"

"That's what… A cell every four and a half days?"

"Well… Technically four point six one five three eight—"

"Doctor."

"Okay! I get your point!" He sniffed. "Doesn't mean you have to imply I have a 'thing for getting locked up'."

She patted him on the shoulder. "Get over it."

"Meanie."

---------

The entrance to Torchwood Three slid open with a grumble of stone on stone, and Jack Harkness stepped through, into his domain. He could hear the strident tones of Owen and Gwen having yet another yelling match, and with a roll of the eyes he consigned himself to playing peacemaker.

Again.

He jumped up to the work area. The bickering pair were toe to toe, face to face, shrieking fit to scare the pterodactyl. "_Hey_!" Jack yelled.

As one, they turned to face him, faces red with anger. "He's being an insensitive bastard again, sir," Gwen barked out quickly.

Jack smirked at her succinct observation. "Owen?"

"_She's _being a wimp and a pansy again," Owen replied pointedly. After a pause, he added a belated "sir".

Harkness shook his head and turned to Toshiko and Ianto. "What have I missed?" he asked, quirking an eyebrow at them resignedly.

"We've had a couple of visitors," Ianto began, in his typical understated manner.

"Visitors?" Jack asked, a funny feeling stirring in the pit of his stomach. "How'd they get in?"

"You won't believe it," Toshiko replied, her gaze full of wonder. "Owen doesn't."

"Well that's Owen, isn't it," Jack dead-panned. "C'mon. Try me."

Toshiko sighed, evidently trying not to laugh. "A blue box!"

Jack froze. "A blue box?"

"A blue box," Gwen agreed. "And how did Owen greet the poor people inside?" She sighed long-sufferingly. "With a gun to the face, no less!"

"What else was I s'posed to do? Offer them tea and cakes?"

"That man had a bloody nose!"

"So?"

"So you could've at least said 'hi' before waving a gun at them!"

"Where are they?" Jack interrupted.

"In the cells," Owen replied, crossing his arms defensively. "And don't you start getting on at me too!"

But Jack wasn't listening. He was running – heading for the cells.

---------

The Doctor eyed the lock, spinning his sonic screwdriver in his hand. "Nice design, these cells," he commented. "Especially for humans."

"There you go again," Martha sighed, "insulting humans."

"Nah, not _insulting_ so much," he fielded absently, still studying the lock. "Loving teasing, maybe." He smirked and angled his screwdriver towards the mechanism and flicked it on. It buzzed loudly, and the reinforced glass around the glowing blue tip cracked sharply. The electronic lock made a funny buzzing noise, and then a high-pitched whine as it died. "But" he continued absently, "no match for me…"

"Modest, too," Martha observed, arms crossed.

The Doctor tucked his screwdriver back in his pocket and looked up at her, smiling winningly. "That's me!" He pushed the door lightly with the tip of his finger, and beamed as it swung open. "There we go!"

---------

"_There we go!" _

Rose jumped, and swore colourfully as the biro between her fingers scrawled a blue line across the Torchwood logo on the header of the report she was running through. She hurled the offending item to the side of her cluttered desk and leaned back in her chair with a tight sigh. She'd been distracted all morning, and now she was hearing voices.

_Fantastic, _she grumbled, and rubbed her temples.

She refused to let herself dwell on exactly whose voice it had sounded like – she wasn't going to slip down that road of misery and grief that she'd walked so many times before. Not now. Not with Mickey looking over her shoulder, on high alert.

She grabbed the biro from where it lay on her desk and returned her attention to the report. But her hands still shook.

---------

Jack could hear voices, coming from just down the corridor. There was a female voice, one he didn't recognise. She was laughing, and another voice joined hers in recrimination and amusement.

His heart skipped a beat. _Oh God, it's him. _

He stepped around the corner, staring in astonishment and joy at the two newcomers who were laughing, stood outside a ruined cell. His gaze skipped over the woman—the unfamiliar one, the one who replaced Rose—and straight to _him. _

"Doctor," he croaked out.

The Doctor froze mid-sentence, mouth agape and hair askew. He turned slowly to face Jack, amazement written all over his face. "_Jack?_"

The shock began to wear off, and Jack folded his arms over his chest, fighting the joyous grin that had begun to blossom rebelliously across his features. He made a point of eyeing the shattered cell door, and then returned his gaze to his old acquaintance. "I can't take you _anywhere_," he deadpanned.

A grin began to spread across the Doctor's youthful features. "Jack!"

Jack shifted, and waved a finger at the Time Lord. "You broke my cell."

The Doctor looked shifty.

Jack mock-sighed and rolled his eyes. "What _am _I going to do with you?" And he began to stalk aggressively towards the Doctor.

Alarm flickered through the Time Lord's dark eyes, and he began to back away from the advancing Jack, hands raised in mixed surrender and placation. "Now, Jack, think about this," he began to gabble. "You don't want to set a bad example now, do you…"

A mere foot away from the Doctor Jack paused. He rolled his eyes again as the apparently-mouthy Time Lord continued to babble. "Do you _ever _shut up?" he asked.

"Erm… No?"

"Yeah. I gathered." Without even thinking about it Jack seized the Doctor's head between his hands and kissed him. Hard.

---------

Owen Harper frowned and rubbed at the scar on his cheek. He leaned forward and studied the almost-unbelievable image on his screen, chewing his lip worriedly. "Tosh," he called distractedly. "Come here."

He heard a chair rattle against the grated floor as Toshiko swung her chair over to him. "Owen?" He felt her hand rest against his back.

He tapped the computer screen. "Remember when Rose asked us to look out for funny stuff happening?" he quizzed.

Shock flitted across Toshiko's Oriental features. "My God…"

"D'you think a T-Rex rampaging through Cardiff counts?"

---------

The Doctor whistled lowly. "Nice place you've got yourself here, Jack," he commented admiringly. "I'm jealous."

Harkness smirked as he leaned against Toshiko's workstation, twirling a HB pencil between his fingers. "It's no TARDIS, I'm afraid."

The Time Lord glanced over at Jack knowingly. "But it's home."

Jack's smirk lost some of its potency, and he nodded. The pencil stopped spinning.

The Doctor smiled and straightened up, his hands thrust into his coat pockets. "How'd you manage to get caught up with Torchwood then?" he asked.

The tone of his voice surprised Jack. The question itself was innocent, and the tone normal. But the way the Doctor _spat _the word 'Torchwood' startled Jack. "Just kinda happened, I guess," he ventured tentatively, the HB once more twirling between his fingers.

Owen, listening in, was less tactful. "What've you got against Torchwood, then?" he demanded.

Jack closed his eyes and tapped Toshiko's desk with his pencil. _Don't shoot the staff, _he reminded himself.He opened his eyes again and looked heavenward, shaking his head.

A humourless smile crossed the Doctor's face. "Ever heard of the Battle of Canary Wharf?" he asked.

Jack looked back at the Doctor, a frown creasing his forehead.

Owen shifted in his seat, pinned by the Doctor's piercing gaze. "Who hasn't?" he fended. "Thousands of tin robots hovering over London, more tin robots in every home. Torchwood One reduced to rubble, near enough—"

"And me, right in the middle," the Doctor cut in, every muscle in his lean body tense. "Me… and Rose."

The pencil Jack had been fiddling with snapped as his fingers clenched around it. "Rose?" he choked out.

The Doctor turned his gaze back to Jack; a gaze full of anger and sadness. "I lost her, Jack," he said softly. "I told you that before. I told you she's trapped in that other universe. But I never told you when, and I never told you where."

"Canary Wharf," Jack whispered.

He nodded. "I lost her," he whispered in return, eyes brimming with pain. "And I've never accepted that." He swallowed. "And now I can _hear_ her."

Jack was lost. He blinked, and shook his head in confusion. "What?"

"I hear her," the Doctor replied. "In my head. And it _hurts._"

Wordlessly Jack stepped forward and tugged the Doctor into his embrace.

---------

Irritatingly enough, the moment they'd arrived, the prehistoric monster had disappeared. Literally – just gone, vanished into thin air.

Rose sighed with annoyance and sat down heavily in the driver's seat of the SUV. Mickey joined her, gazing thoughtfully out of the windscreen at Jake, Toshiko and Owen as the trio mingled with the crowd, calming people down and eking stories out of them. "Now, we may only have been in this universe and this Cardiff for a couple of years," he started, "but I don't remember reading anything about dinosaurs trampling shopping centres."

Rose shook her head slowly, chewing a thumbnail.

"Do you have any idea what it is?" Mickey asked, still not looking at her.

She stopped chewing her nail. "The Doctor'd know," she said softly.

Mickey looked over at her and sighed. "The Doctor's not here," he replied, just as softly. "So what do _you _think is happening?"

Rose looked over at him, blonde hair straggled across her face. "I think the Doctor was wrong," she replied quietly. "He said there was no way that our universes could ever touch again. I think he was wrong."

Mickey sighed. "Rose…"

"I think the Rift is opening," Rose interrupted. "I think the Rift is opening, and something is going to happen."

"Something?"

A tiny smile quirked her lips. "Something is coming."

---------


End file.
